


Sweet

by Gwendolynn_C



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, No Plot, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwendolynn_C/pseuds/Gwendolynn_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Eric feels like his jaw is fused closed and Jack is quietly chatting away. He’s not babbling by any means and there are long silences, but Jack gets him up to date on the Falconers and the media push he was working on with Georgia this afternoon. It’s almost as though their places are swapped."</p><p>Eric's the one having a bad day. Jack's there to soothe his boyfriend's mood with compassion and attentiveness</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> I got to thinking about what happens when Bitty's in a bad mood and the next thing I knew this one-shot happened. I'm a little bit obsessed with showers (and feel very guilty about my less than eco-friendly habits) so therefore Bitty is too. Many thanks to the wonderful Bekah ( selfsong.tumblr.com ) for being a beta.

Eric is having a bad day. 

He didn’t prepare well for a test and he nearly cried when class ended and he had to hand it in, knowing that the questions he  _ did  _ complete were answered poorly. Betsy 2.0 might be the nicest oven he’s ever owned, but the refrigerator had died on them last weekend and a new one is supposed to arrive tomorrow but in the meantime there’s no butter and thus, no way for him to bake a pie and de-stress. And then hockey practice was a complete shit storm. Everyone was making sloppy mistakes, mistakes that would disgrace a ten year-old. In the end Murray and Hall just had them do suicides and not even Eric’s speed made that experience better. He could see the angry, frustrated looks on his teammates faces as he zipped back and forth. A foul cloud of self-reproach clogs up the atmosphere. 

When Eric gets out of the showers he checks his phone:

_ Jay Z: Can’t wait to see you this evening :-* _

_ Jay Z: That’s a kiss _

 

Eric only frowns. Part of him wants to text Jack and tell him that he needs to study, that he’s tired and feeling funny and that there’s no way he’s coming to Providence and infecting Jack with his grumpiness. But that wouldn’t be fair to Jack and so he puts on his cheering up playlist and tries to let Beyoncé lift his spirits.

It doesn’t work. He tries to study on the train but there’s a crying baby and a couple of crabby baby boomers rambling about satanic gays ruining the country and his earbuds are busted so music is only coming through one side. When he arrives in Providence it’s raining and it’s past eight-thirty so the station is closed and Bitty has to walk two blocks to shelter from the downpour. He has to wait thirteen and half minutes for Jack to show up.

Jack hugs him tightly and Eric hugs him back tightly, despite feeling a bit resentful. Jack is warm, after all, and he is freezing.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,  _ mon chou,  _ and about the rain. Let’s get you home, come on, I’ve got an umbrella. Stay close to me, eh?”

“Don’t apologize for the rain, sweetheart. You can’t control the weather,” Eric sighs.

Jack offers his arm like a gentleman and Eric takes it as they walk to Jack’s car. Eric feels like his jaw is fused closed and Jack is quietly chatting away. He’s not babbling by any means and there are long silences, but Jack gets him up to date on the Falconers and the media push he was working on with Georgia this afternoon. It’s almost as though their places are swapped.

When they’re finally inside Jack’s apartment, Jack turns to catch Eric around the waist and kiss him soundly. Eric drops his bag to the ground with a thud and kisses back, but he keeps his hands by his sides and pulls away before Jack can deepen the kiss.

Jack’s forehead wrinkles and he presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s hairline. “What do you need, Bits?”

“I just feel weird,” Eric admits. “And I don’t know what you’re doing, kissing me like that. I look like a drowned rat.”

“You look fine.”

Eric fixes him with a skeptical glare. “Fine. Sure. I’m just really tired. Would you mind if I turned in early? I’ll wake up to go on your run with you tomorrow.”

Jack’s eyes are sad but determined. “Let’s get you a cup of tea first. I don’t want you getting sick from the rain. Or maybe a decaf coffee? Do you think I could google how to make a decaf spiced pumpkin latte?”

That makes Eric smile and shake his head a little. “You figure that out. I’m gonna change out of these wet clothes.”

Jack leans down to kiss his cheek softly and he squeezes his hip before finally trotting away. “I’m glad you’re here Bitty. Really.”

Eric doubts that. He takes his bag to Jack’s room and sees the door that leads to the bathroom. Jack’s enormous, fancy shower is in full view, with its giant shower head eight feet from the ground, water jets and temperature control pad. He’s already showered twice today, when he woke up, in a vain attempt to get energized before class and then again after practice. There’s no reason for him to shower again but he’s shivering in his smelly travels clothes and hair sticking to his neck like overdone caramel to a spatula. A shower feels like the best of ideas. He shouldn’t, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt.

He pulls off his shoes, socks and shorts first before staring hard at the digital control pad. Jack’s showed him how to use this several times so he’s confident that if he inputs the correct commands…

Water sprays out of the jets, far too hot and far too fast and the controls are locked and Bitty feels like crying so instead he bites his tongue and huffs a sigh.  _ Of course,  _ this happened. He’s gonna flunk out of college and never play hockey again, a sport he was never any good at to begin with. Did he really think that hiding away in the tiniest state in the country would make his life better?

“Jack!” He calls out, unable to keep the frustration out of his tone. “I fucked it up! Can you please-”

“What’s the problem?” Jack pops his head in the doorway and then smiles fondly,  _ amusedly,  _ at Eric standing, arms crossed in front of his ridiculous shower. Because Jack is a big old meanie and laughing at Eric, even though there’s no reason a shower should have thirty-four different functions.

“The problem is that your highfalutin’ shower makes about as much sense as tits on a bull.”

Jack just raises his eyebrows and does something to the shower that makes it stop with a couple sharp beeps. “Do you want me to show you how to use controls again?”

“Bless your heart, but no thank you.”

“Do you want me to set you up in the shower?”

Eric’s mouth twists into a pout and he glares at the floor. “I’d appreciate that.”

He hears another few sharp beeps and then the rush of water, calm and steady. He opens the door and reaches out to touch the stream, it’s a perfect temperature.

“Thank you,” Eric says, voice just a whisper. He pulls off his shirt and boxers and steps inside the shower.

“Of course, baby.”

Eric looks up. Jack’s hovering in the doorway, simply gazing at him. He’s not laughing and he’s not disappointed. He looks concerned.

“Do you…” Eric clears his throat and tries to talk around the lump in his throat. “Do you want to join me?”

Jack nods and begins to unbutton his shirt. Eric just stands under the shower head, eyes closed, letting the water sluice over him and imagines all the tension in his shoulders and mind sliding down the drain.

He feels Jack’s large hands wrap around his waist as he pulls Eric against him. Chest to back, skin against skin with only water between them, Eric takes a deep, shuddering breath and relaxes.

Jack presses a kiss behind Eric’s ear. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

Because that’s their thing: talking. Communicating. Jack is honest about his feelings and thoughts whether they’re good, bad, ugly, or all three and Eric listens. It’s supposed to be a mutual thing.

“I had a bad day,” Eric says simply. Jack waits for him to continue. “I’m bad at school and bad at hockey and bad at life and I just feel really… worthless.”

“Why do you feel like you’re bad at school?”

“I know I did poorly on a test,” Eric sighs. “I procrastinated studying and I didn’t have enough time to crunch it. I didn’t even get to the last page, it was awful. I haven’t done that poorly since high school.”

“Well, we can look over your notes tomorrow, better prepare you for next time. And maybe you can talk to your professor about extra credit?” Jack’s hands are still, but his thumbs are rubbing slow circles into Eric’s ribcage. “Now are you really bad at hockey?”

“No.”

“You’re very good at hockey, Bits. You’re fast as hell and you’re an excellent teammate on and off the ice. I’m in the NHL, important people pay me a lot of money to play hockey every day, so I know what I’m talking about here.”

“Okay, okay I believe you, Mr. Big-Shot,” Eric giggles. It feels like the first time he’s laughed in days.

“And you’re not bad at life. You’re a brave, kind and hardworking man. You make me a better person and influence everyone around you positively. I’m so glad that you’re a part of my life. I love you.”

Eric turns his head and hooks his arms around Jack’s shoulders to pull him down for a kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He breathes against Jack’s mouth before kissing him again.

Eric tugs on the soft hair at the nape of his neck so Jack moans and he can lick into his mouth. Jack pulls him back, slowly grinding his hips against Eric’s ass with one hand, and with his other, wraps his fingers around Eric’s quickly hardening cock.

“Lord, Jack,” Eric gasps. “Yes – please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Jack murmurs. And Eric doesn’t even have to open his eyes to see his smug grin.

Jack kisses down the side of Eric’s neck, pausing to bite at Eric’s shoulder, sucking and licking and no doubt leaving a mark that won’t be easily hidden. He continues to stroke Eric’s cock until he spills over in Jack’s hand with a loud cry.

Honestly, Eric’s glad for Jack’s overcomplicated shower if only because the water rinsing them off is still warm. He turns on shaky legs to face Jack and kiss him deeply.

“Want me to take care of you?” he asks, voice low and lazy.

Jack just shakes his head. “I’m alright. Do you want to actually wash up or should we get out?”

“Out,” Eric replies.

Jack’s towels are large and soft and Eric dries himself off while Jack does the same and turns off the shower, tapping away at the digital control panel like it’s the natural way to work a shower. Without giving a second thought for modesty, Jack scoops Eric into his arms and carries him into the bedroom.

“It’s almost my bedtime anyway,” Jack murmurs. “Want to just go to bed? We can watch something on my laptop if you like?”

Eric just nods but he doesn’t really care whether Jack puts on a show or not. All he wants is to cuddle up with Jack and just spend time with him. Once they’re settled in bed, legs tangled and wrapped up in soft sheets and a thick quilt, Eric kisses Jack’s cheekbones, once, twice, three times.

“Thank you,” he says. “I’m not having a bad day anymore.”

“Oh, I nearly forgot. Did you really want a decaf pumpkin spice latte?”

“No, handsome. You stay right where you are.”

“Oh good. Because google wasn’t being very helpful.”

Eric chuckles. “What were you planning on doing? Calling Annie’s and asking if they had any advice on how to make your boyfriend happy?”

“If necessary, yes!”

Eric laughs again and Jack laughs right along with him, joy radiating and seeping from everything, making them feel a little bit drunk and a whole lot content.

“You’re too sweet to me, you know that right?”

Jack hums. “I think we’re sweet to each other. I like it. I like dating you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm diamoric-lardo.tumblr.com if you wanna hang out there!


End file.
